


With Bells On

by danceswithhamsters01



Series: Reddit Prompts [39]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Belly Dancing, Birthday, Birthday Fluff, Birthday Presents, Dancing, F/M, Surprises
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-17
Updated: 2019-02-17
Packaged: 2019-10-30 12:55:02
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17828969
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/danceswithhamsters01/pseuds/danceswithhamsters01
Summary: Based on a prompt from r/dragonageSevarra Amell has been sneaky and planning a surprise for her Zevran's birthday.





	With Bells On

****Prompt 4:**** An amused chuckle, a lock of hair tucked behind an ear, a gleam of silver, a curving smile.

 

 

For several days in a row, his amora had been sneaking off after her mage recruits had finished their drills for the day. It was driving him mad with curiosity. He heard the rhythmic sound of drumming and the clinking chimes of what sounded like tiny bells. Try as he might, he could never pin down where it was coming from, as the location changed from one day to the next. Like clockwork, she would resurface a couple of hours later, shapely lips curving into a smile.

 

After the first week of being baffled, Zevran tried to pry his Warden’s secret from her lips by way of his specialty: massage. He made his move after a particularly busy day, her energy was low by the time they retreated to their quarters. He soothed tired and knotted muscles in her back and tried to casually raise the subject.

 

“I could swear that you’ve vanished every day after drilling your little mages, my sweet. Where do you go, I wonder?”

 

While he had skillfully reduced his lovely mage to a pile of purring putty in his hands, Sevarra stubbornly kept her secret with an amused chuckle.

 

“You will find out soon enough, mi corazón,” she promised, pressing a playful kiss to the tip of his nose.

 

 _Brasca_. She could be the most frustrating woman in the land when she had a mind for it.

 

The second and third weeks had only driven him mad. He didn’t know how, but apparently, an invisible drumming ensemble had been smuggled into the keep! A _sneaky_ group of drummers, at that! They never left any evidence of their existence after the last notes of their practice sessions faded. Asking the Wardens had been pointless, each of them had shrugged in ignorance when questioned about the music.

 

The fourth week saw a small scandal take place in the keep. The usual chef, an extremely proud Orlesian woman, had an absolute fit when a guest had been hired for a yet-to-be-announced event. This mystery guest? A chef with an unmistakably Antivan accent, if a northern-sounding one. Treviso, perhaps? Colorful curses filled the air in both Orlesian and Antivan as the pair of chefs vied for control of the kitchens.

 

“I am the head chef of this castle! This is my kitchen, you damned cur! OUT!”

 

“Be that as it may,” the silver haired-man from Antiva barked, “the Arlessa personally requested both my presence and my skills! Take your objections up with her, not myself!”

 

The smirk the assassin had been wearing while listening to the pair argue from his unobserved corner faded as his eyes narrowed. His amora was behind this newcomer’s arrival? Whatever for? He resolved to find her and learn exactly what was going on. As luck would have it, she was in her new study. She appeared even more diminutive than usual behind her large oak desk, nose stuck in a thick book and a pile of parchments cluttering the surface, awaiting signatures, wax, and the press of her signet ring.

 

“It would seem the chef is feeling both offended and territorial,” he smirked from the doorway, causing her to peer up from her tome. “There is a man in ‘her’ kitchens claiming you invited him.”

 

The Commander grinned, placing a tattered ribbon to mark her place in the book before gently closing it. “Because I did. I hired him for tonight.”

 

“And what is the occasion?” he asked.

 

She looked at him as if he’d proclaimed that the sky was green and grass purple. She rose from her desk and glided over to him.

 

“Amor… did you really forget? I am going to laugh so hard if you did, please don’t be offended,” she chuckled as she tucked a lock of his hair behind an ear.

 

He arched a brow in reply. She bit her lip but failed to hold back an amused snort.

 

“You told me that the 9th of Cloudreach, which is today, is when you celebrate your birth. There’s going to be something special tonight at supper and afterward.”

 

He blinked once, twice, several times in disbelief. It was the 9 th  already? How had he lost track of the days? She laughed and pressed a kiss to his lips.

 

That evening saw them enjoying an honest-to-Maker real paella laden with shellfish and just the right amounts and types of seasoning. It was followed by a light and fluffy tarta de queso, more savory than sweet. Once the dishes were cleared away, she shyly set a small wrapped package before him.

 

“One of your presents, I thought you might enjoy it.”

 

It turned out to be a fine brandy with tiny flecks of gold material in it. It was strong, yet smooth. He let loose an appreciative sigh.

 

“I’ll be back shortly with your other gift,” she winked as she rose from the table.

 

He began to wonder what was going on as the minutes ticked by. He blinked in surprise as three men and a woman carrying drums ambled into the dining room. They quickly grabbed chairs and set them in a semi-circle by the hearth. Two of the drums were roughly goblet-shaped. The woman held a frame drum and winked at him. They began to play. _So these were the sneaky drummers, eh?_

 

A gleam of silver against a field of green caught his eye. His beloved smirked at him from beneath the sheer green veil that covered the lower half of her face as she gyrated and shimmied to the music. Each movement of her hips made the tiny silver bells sewn on to her emerald-hued sash chime. She wore a halter top and a billowing diaphanous skirt in a slightly lighter shade of green, accompanied by silver armlets and bracelets, and a tiny pair of cymbals in each hand.

 

He watched raptly as she danced. _That devious little minx!_ She’d been planning this all along?


End file.
